AFTERMATH
by Asynca
Summary: An exploration of how Paine feels about the 'happy' ending, with the introduction of Rikku into the equation. RikkuxPaine with a very slight dash of yuri.


AFTERMATH

* * *

There's only so many times you can sharpen a sword before it becomes blatantly obvious to everyone else that you've got nothing to do.

That morning in particular, I had settled once again on my favourite granite outcrop a comfortable distance away from the village to run my quickly shrinking grindstone along the edge of my sword. The blade hardly needed it; the edge was becoming so bloodless, clean and bright so as to cause me to flinch when it reflected the sun. However, the movement was repetitive and allowed me the freedom to think.

Had I been pleased to assist in the recovery of Tidus? Probably. But only because of the satisfaction I feel from a job well completed. I didn't know him in the first place, and my only interest in the mission had nothing to do with resurrecting him. I suppose it's nice to see Yuna happier; she thinks we never noticed, but I knew her to have cried herself to sleep on several occasions throughout the ordeal.

However, reuniting those two lovebirds has sent both of them into a state of childhood recession, and all I ever see them do is run along the beach laughing, hugging and kissing. Which, watching them, made me feel disappointed and ill.

I had left the analysis of my feelings at that for several days while everyone, including myself, had a chance to relax in the sun. However, the decline of possible interesting pass-times had a nasty effect on my self-awareness, and caused me to have several disturbing self revelations.

Firstly, I wouldn't ever call any feelings I had for Yuna more than platonic. She's very attractive, certainly; but there's nothing satisfying about unrequited love for a woman who's busy mourning the loss of her male partner. Even if she had not been in the situation, it still would have never developed further. So the morose feelings of depression that resulted from watching her frolic in the sand with the boy weren't those of a broken heart, nor of jealousy of what Tidus had in her that I didn't.

Jealousy, perhaps; of a different variety. I did feel a little betrayed by how little time Yuna spends with us now that she has Tidus back, and that surprised me. I had thought myself up to then to be merely tolerating her presence, in the true manner of a somewhat amicable business associate. However, the twinge of annoyance I felt that her eyes would sometimes pass over me without looking spoke legions otherwise.

I also felt short-changed by the whole affair. Sure, I got my sweet victory in the end, which is a welcome change from being beaten to a bruised pile, spat on and generally betrayed by all manner of youths posing as my friends. But it felt hollow. Especially watching what Yuna got out of it - everything.

I lifted my blade horizontal to the ground to inspect my handy-work, and noticed that Rikku had snuck into my peripheral vision to lean pseudo-aloofly against a palm tree to my right. She was pretending to tinker with some sort of small gadget, but her main purpose seemed to be smirking knowingly at me through the corner of her eye.

I caught her glancing at me in the reflection of my sword. "What?" I asked her flatly.

She snorted. "Wow, you're in such a good mood today. Wrong site of bed again?" Now that she'd be discovered, she obviously felt quite at liberty to approach and crouch in front of my rock. I exhaled audibly and let my sword relax onto the ground with a dull thump.

She tucked the gadget into her pocket. "I'm bored." She admitted, looking pleadingly at me as if I could solve world hunger, war and all manner of general uncategorized suffering. "Wanna come for a walk with me or something?"

I couldn't decide whether I wanted to or didn't want to - which was a good enough reason to concede. There was no real reason not to leave my sword where it was; I certainly wouldn't need to use it on the island, and children were never allowed to wander this far out so that they might accidentally injure themselves on it. Furthermore, no one in their right mind - other than Rikku who'd been known to teasingly steal and hide it occasionally - would touch it.

When I placed my sword aside and stood, Rikku promptly looked like she couldn't believe her luck, and made a beeline for the beach. I suppose I wouldn't have really counted on me to agree to be social, either. However, chronic and ritual boredom can do strange things to a person's mind.

"Alright, but don't expect me to build sandcastles," I told her dryly.

Ignoring me, she appraised my outfit, "I'd hate to ruin that deep dark depressive image you've got going there, but you're not going to wear those on the beach, are you? They'll get all manky and tough." She was addressing her argument to my boots.

She was absolutely right, so I left them with the sword on my rock.

Rarely seeing the light of day, my feet were sensitive, and felt every grain of gravel and prickle between the village and the beach. I didn't make any effort to make my discomfort known, of course, and Rikku didn't seem to even be aware of the battle I was fighting with the ground.

After a period of rare silence as we walked onto the sand, Rikku finally confessed, "It feels wierd, doesn't it? All this happy ending stuff. It's like I don't even know what to do now I'm not on some sort of mission."

"I know what you mean," I said emphatically, and meant it.

Gentle waves collapsed on the sand beside us, throwing clear water up to lap at my heels. It was mildly cool in contrast to the glare of the sun, and felt better than I expected it to. Rikku darted away from approached water playfully - and my heart wrenched as I remember making the same movements as a child. The fresh memory of summer on the beach rolling in the waves with my mother raked like claws along my chest. The scrappily patched hole inside me ached for the chance to renew those memories of my parents - and all at once I felt an unexpected and violent surge of hatred for Yuna. What was so special about her that she was allowed a second chance with Tidus? What about what I had lost? What made me second best in this victory? I felt the rising ill in my stomach again, and swallowed it back down to where it felt safe, watching the neat footprints I was creating be eaten by the waves.

"Brooding again?" A chirpy voice encouraged me to look up from the sand. "Or just trying to maintain a stable level of gloom?"

"This was your idea," I reminded her, instead of arguing.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked, falling in beside me and matching my strides with her own.

"Nothing you'd find interesting," I lied, knowing her penchant for gossip and personal information.

"Are you angry? You look angry."

"Thanks," I told her, my familiar sarcasm my saviour.

"...How about sad?" she persisted, and I could feel her eyes on my face. I didn't look at her, however, and felt a bit intruded on that she insisted on carving some sort of answer out of me. "Why do you need to know?" I countered; rather defensively, in retrospect.

"I guess I don't," her voice trailed off, and I thought I detected an element of hurt in her tone.

She stopped suddenly, and I turned back toward her, questioningly.

Regarding me for a moment, her brow lowering in what I determined to be a mixture of focused thought and hurt feelings. "Why don't you trust me?" All humour, energy and silliness was completely vacant from her face. I watched her, feeling the weight of emotion behind her words as she continued, "Because I trust you."

I swallowed feel unsafe about where this conversation was leading. "I do trust you."

She paused for a moment, conflict obvious on her transparent face. A restraint that she must have been harbouring for some time disappeared. "Then why don't you ever tell me anything? I tell you everything!" Her brow quivered as she allowed the force of her frustration to fuel her. "And you get angry when I ask you, like I'm trying to insult you or something, and then go and sulk for an hour! And don't give me any of that respect points garbage because I'm sick of it!"

I stood, frozen.

This was new information for me - I had had absolutely no evidence that her haranguing me for information was anything more that simply a girlish love of bonding over gossip and sharing sordid details of other peoples' personal lives. I had no idea where to begin to respond.

"I don't even know when your birthday is," she continued, as if the omission of that fact from her brain was some sort of horrendous crime.

"September 6th," I told her, without thinking.

However, it appeared I had answered a rhetorical question that was only intended to illustrate her argument of how ignorant of me she was, as dismay shone across her features for a moment. I have a feeling that from her reaction she thought that I was somehow being sarcastic about the whole situation. I had no idea how to repair my error.

She shot me a hurtful expression, then turned on her tail and began to march back toward the village. I toyed with the idea of leaving it be - however easy and appealing the option was, I knew leaving the matter to fester now would be disastrous.

"Rikku..." I called out, shattering the footprints we'd forged as I jogged up to her. I circled her upper arm with my hand, turning her sideways as I stopped her.

When her eyes locked with mine, I could see a haze of tears ready to spill down her cheek at any moment. I felt sick with responsibility. The eyes searched me accusingly, and I'm not sure what they found.

Before I could figure out what would be appropriate for me to say, she flung herself around me. We were much closer to the same height without my heels on, but she still managed somehow to curl up in the crook of my neck. Her arms hugged around my waist, and one of her arms tucked itself in behind one of my leather straps. She nuzzled forward into my neck, allowing me to the pressure of having to choose whether to address how awkward I felt, or to comfort her. To make my new guilt even more absolute, I felt the wetness of tears against my skin... As if I needed anything else to torture myself over.

I settled a hand on her back, and placed the other over the back of her head, and made a calculated decision to not mention that she was driving the chain of my pendant into my neck. The movement seemed to calm her, and I felt her take a deep breath and release it.

After another period of what I felt to be excruciatingly uncomfortable silence, she pulled away from me, her hands still around my waist.

Her eyes, red from tears, searched me - looking for what, I don't know. But I was able to guess what was about to come next.

One of her hands snaked up from my waist, and fingertips stroked from my chin to just below my ear, where my jaw met my neck. Locked a little behind my jaw, she brought my face down, towards hers. Lips rose to meet mine, uncertainly at first, brushing them across each other almost platonically. After a momentary pause, she brought them together again, parting mine underneath hers.

I struggled with what to make of her advance - feeling nothing but panic - and wondering if she had mistaken admiration for attraction, or even if the new progress was motivated by attraction. My lips were moved by hers out of reflex. When I felt the blade of a tongue touch the skin behind teeth, I became aware I was actually part of the alien situation that I had previously been feeling some level of disassociation toward.

She had relaxed into our kiss, and felt comfortable in my arms, kissing peacefully toward me and causing me to force myself to evaluate my part in the embrace.

How did I feel about being kissed by Rikku? Numb, at first. Just like everything else. I initially had no opinions in favour nor any opposing the situation, and I had to probe deep to find any sort of emotional response.

She's so sweet, really; all enthusiasm, personality and mirth. She's like an anti-me, or a four-years-ago me. But even then I don't think I was quite like her - I've always tended toward introversion even in my happy childhood. I do feel warm toward her - which tepid a feeling as it is, is at stark contrast to the numbness or dislike I have toward the majority of other people. It wouldn't have been enough for me to initiate the kiss myself, or even to have considered taking our friendship to this level. I'd looked upon her appreciatively only from time to time, whilst wishing she'd put on more clothes. I dislike men looking at her like she's a piece of prize meat they can sit in their laps, and her dress sense didn't aid her cause. That is, unless her cause was to attract as much objectification as possible. It occurred to me that it was rather ironic that while kissing Rikku I was wondering how to get her to add layers of clothing, and not to instead remove them.

Just as I was pondering that thought, Rikku finished up and pulled away from me, flashing me a coy, but bright smile. The corners of my lips tightened in response, encouraging an even warmer smile from her. She then lay her cheek against my collarbone, the hand that had been at the edge of my jaw throughout our kiss began to fiddle with my pendant.

She exhaled peacefully again. "I've been wanting to do that," she confessed. "Are you okay with it?"

Plain truth, in complex situations, takes the least effort. "I'm not sure," I answered, "But I don't feel bad."

"Can I do it again?" she asked hopefully, and I heard an indication of desperation that she fought to hide from me. She had stopped playing with my pendant, waiting in mock patience for my answer. I wondered what the desperation meant, and what fuelled the feeling. I hoped it wasn't misplaced loneliness masquerading as interest. Yet, I wasn't sure what my interest in the situation was, either. Although, apparently I had invested some sort of value into her kiss, as I wasn't in a hurry to tell her that she wasn't allowed to do it again.

It occurred to me that there might be some sort of permanence hidden within her simple request, and I phrased it as a second question to her. "Will you be wanting to do it a lot?"

She thought about my question briefly, resuming pushing my necklace backwards and forwards between my collarbones. Eventually she answered, "Yeah, I think so," in an uncertain tone.

I considered my options. I could refuse, and watch that smile fade into more tears. Disturbingly, that idea was more alarming that I expected it to be. I could also push her down into the sand and do something that we'd definitely both regret doing in public. Neither idea was particularly appealing, but refusing least so. Her lips we soft, exploratory; and the memory of them on mine made me realize it would not be entirely difficult for me to get used to being kissed by her. I realized the possibility of furthering that embrace was also not entirely out of the question to me.

"That would be alright," I finally answered.


End file.
